


Once a Loser, Always a Loser

by sameuspegasus



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Bullying, Gen, Jealousy, Kidnapping, POV Flash Thompson, POV Outsider, Secret Identity, envy - Freeform, villains are people too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-04 14:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11557188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sameuspegasus/pseuds/sameuspegasus
Summary: Why can no one else see what Flash sees when he looks at Peter? They're so blinded by his puppy-dog eyes and his brilliant brain that they don't notice the things that Peter does. The lying. The neglect of commitments. The secrets and disappearances and attention-seeking claims of being mentored by a tech genius. But Flash notices. And tries to tell people.AKA Flash bullies Peter because he's jealous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I see as canon for Spider-Man: Homecoming. I haven't read the comics and can't really remember the other films, so it probably wouldn't stand up to thorough scrutiny.
> 
> Tom Holland is a delight. Spider-Man: Homecoming is an absolute triumph.

Penis Parker is late again. Flash drums his fingers impatiently on the desk and glowers at his Rolex. Being forced to work on an engineering project with the biggest loser in the school is bad enough but to be stood up by the biggest loser in the school not once but three times is just plain embarrassing. No, not embarrassing, he reminds himself. Annoying. It’s an outrage. And it’s not like he can complain to anyone, because then everyone will know he can’t get Peter to do what he wants anymore. If people find out that the weakest, most pathetic nerd in the school doesn’t respect him anymore, then no one will respect him. He flips a page in the binder he’s made for the project. It’s not like he needs Peter’s help to win the competition anyway. He’s just as smart as Parker. He would have totally won the science fair last year if all the teachers weren’t so obsessed with Peter. Just because a guy has puppy dog eyes and a dead uncle and always gets the answer right when people ask him things, it doesn’t mean his project deserves to beat Flash’s rocket in the science fair. It was just some dumb goop for bandaging wounds up. It was nowhere near as cool as Flash’s tech.

Penis finally arrives just as Flash is about to leave. He’s sweating and the stupid nerd t-shirt he’s wearing is sticking to him. Flash can see it molding to the abs Peter has somehow developed in the last six months. Two of the senior girls who had barely acknowledged Flash’s presence are looking at him sideways and giggling. Peter nearly knocks over a chair in his haste to sit down and shove his stupid backpack under the table. He looks up and sees the girls watching him and goes pink. Flash almost admires how good an actor he is, pretending he doesn’t know why they’re looking. The girls smile and whisper. Flash glowers.

“Sorry,” Peter pants, “Stark internship.”

Flash snorts. “Like you’ve even met him.”

The Stark internship doesn’t exist. Flash knows this because Stark Industries have told him in no uncertain terms that Stark Industries does not take on interns, no matter how many times a student calls. And they certainly don’t let people speak to Mr Stark, regardless of who their father is.

Penis looks uncomfortable and asks about the project instead of responding. Probably because he doesn’t have a Stark Internship and he was actually off doing sit-ups somewhere and meeting his steroid dealer. Flash has seen him in the showers after gym class and there’s no way a fifteen-year-old has a body like that without spending at least five hours a day in the gym. Flash does two-hundred sit-ups every morning before school and he doesn’t have a six-pack.

Peter is crossing something out in the binder. “What are you doing?” Flash exclaims in fury, grabbing the pen.

Peter raises his stupid kicked-puppy eyes and stammers, “The mass, er, cancels out, remember? We have to get the swing right or it won’t work…”

Flash looks at the equation. Damn it. Peter’s right. He glares at Peter. “What are you doing tonight, Penis? Friday night Lego with your bestest friend Ned?” He asks loudly, looking over at the senior girls. They’re looking at Peter again and this time their expressions are a mix of mocking and disgust at how lame he is. Score. “I’m DJ’ing at this really exclusive club. I’ll probably drive there in my Dad’s Audi. Learnt to drive yet?” The girls get up and leave.

“Can we just do the project, Flash?” Peter asks, “I really have to get back to my internship.”

“Yeah, the non-existent internship that’s actually you and your one friend playing with kids toys in your crappy apartment.”

“It is a real internship!” Peter insists, like he’s trying to convince himself it’s not a lie. He checks his phone even though it hasn’t buzzed and looks disappointed when he has no messages.

Flash sneers. “Has Tony Stark seen your Lego Avengers Tower?” He grabs the binder back from Peter. “Thanks for wasting my time. Next time show up on time or I’ll tell Mr Harrington and you’ll get thrown out of Robotics club.” Maybe if Peter gets thrown out of Robotics club, Flash’s Speedster robot will finally be champion.

Peter goes off to do some more sit-ups or secretly study so he can embarrass Flash in class some more, or whatever else he does when he’s pretending to have an internship with Tony Stark. Flash drives home in his Dad’s Audi, eats the meal the housekeeper made, and sits alone in his room assembling his Lego Death Star.

 

Peter turns up to the next meeting on time and spends the whole time twitching in his seat and checking his phone. “Oh, Tony Stark still hasn’t called you?” Flash asks. “Probably because he doesn’t know you exist.”

Flash tries to get Mr Harrington to kick Peter out of Robotics club. They’re not allowed to do extra-curricular activities if it interferes with their schoolwork. Unfortunately, Mr Harrington can’t do anything, because Peter’s still top of Chemistry, Physics and Mechanical Engineering, despite the fact that he’s away half the time and spends the rest of it watching videos of the SpiderMan on his laptop. Also, Peter already quit Robotics club.

The following meeting is the day after SpiderMan foils an ATM job by blowing up the sandwich shop across the street. Flash proudly displays the prototype robot he’s spent the two weeks since the last meeting making. Peter produces a lump of twisted metal and wires. It looks like it’s been smashed with Thor’s hammer. Flash makes his robot precisely and efficiently disassemble Peter’s. Peter hardly notices. He’s too busy frantically texting someone on his phone. Flash sneaks a look at the screen. Whoever Peter’s texting clearly doesn’t give a crap about Peter, because there’s a whole page of blue bubbles and no replies. Kind of like when Flash texts his dad. “Texting Tony Stark, Penis?” Flash says, making a grab for the phone. Reading Peter’s sad, unanswered texts out to the school will remind everyone what a loser the guy is. Penis dodges away faster than Flash would have believed and dashes out the door.

A few days later, they’re doing Captain America’s Gymnastics Program in gym class and Peter Parker pulls off a perfect round-off into back handspring while only his pudgy friend and Flash are watching and then immediately goes back to being bad at gym. The Stark Internship is definitely cover for some kind of physical training. But why is he hiding it? If Flash could do a perfect round-off into back handspring, he’d be doing it at every opportunity, especially in front of the girls in his gym class (he can’t do it, he’s tried). It must be something incredibly uncool, like ballet dancing or one of those classes where kids learn superhero moves that look cool but would never work in an actual fight.

Flash celebrates a tiny victory when Penis quits the decathlon team just before nationals in Washington. He doesn’t even give a proper reason, just that he has to be around in case Mr Stark needs him. The whole team is mad at Peter, and for once Flash feels like he’s one of them. He’s on the team, they’re going on a group bus trip to Washington DC, where he’ll wow everyone with his knowledge and take away the trophy. He texts his Dad to say he’s on the team. He gets a text back. Well done, son.

Peter turns back up at the last minute to ruin everything. Flash tries to tell everyone Peter’s unreliable. He’s gonna bail again. He’s not even that smart anyway. It’s not like he knows any more of the answers than Flash. But the whole team thinks Penis walks on water and don’t even stay mad at him after he re-joins. He gets a couple of questions right during the practice on the bus and then goes off to answer a phone call halfway through like the Penis he is. It’s from someone called Happy, and Peter’s making excuses to him like he does to everyone.

The whole team sneaks down to the pool the night before the competition. The whole team but Peter, who’s off studying like the nerd he is. It’s perfect. Liz Allen is totally flirting with him, now that Peter’s not around to scare her off with his ridiculously obvious stalker crush.

Then Peter doesn’t turn up for the decathlon. No one’s worried, Peter disappears all the time. Everyone was half-expecting it. Flash is back in the team. It’s going to be the best day of his life.

Except it’s not. His hands sweat and his jacket’s too hot and he can’t think. Everything’s too fast and everyone’s staring at him, expecting answers and there are questions coming from all directions. He can’t breathe properly. He sits tensely in his hard chair, sweat dripping down his back and finally breathes again when Michelle answers the final question with almost bored confidence. The joy of winning is intense (he ignores the feeling that it was no thanks to him) and nothing can ruin this. He takes a selfie with the trophy and sends it to his Dad. Then the whole terrifying Washington Monument incident happens and their win is overshadowed by SpiderMan saving them.

He asks SpiderMan if he really knows Peter Parker. SpiderMan doesn’t reply. He takes that as a no.

Everyone’s obsessed with SpiderMan at school. It’s like winning an academic decathlon means nothing.

They have another science fair meeting. Peter doesn’t answer any of his questions about where he was on the DC trip. Flash spies plans in his notebook that are definitely not for their robot. If Parker’s got a secret solo project he’s planning to take out the Tech Fair with, Flash is going to kill him.

SpiderMan nearly lets a ferry full of people drown. Iron Man saves the day. “Looks like your close personal friend isn’t much of a superhero after all,” Flash jabs at Peter, shouldering him aside in the hallway. Peter is surprisingly solid, for all he looks like a twelve-year-old who’s about to cry. It’s like he remembers at the last second that he’s a loser and allows himself to he shoved against the locker. Flash rubs his shoulder. He’d forgotten about the muscles Peter was hiding.

Peter goes back to being a bit more like his old self. He’s in class more. He ducks his head and stares at the floor when Flash catches him and Ned playing with Legos in the music room. That weird, barely concealed excitement of the past six months is gone, replaced by a quiet dejection. He turns up on time to their meetings about the Tech fair (their project is actually awesome, they’re so going to win) and actually works. He doesn’t mention the Stark Internship. Everything is as it should be.

Then Peter Parker has the nerve to ask Liz Allen, two years his senior, captain of the academic decathlon team, leader of the homecoming committee, all round personification of a high school dream girl, to Homecoming. And she says yes.

Flash hates him more than ever. He didn’t know that was possible. He asks a senior girl to homecoming. She only agrees after he promises to take her to dinner in the most expensive restaurant he knows, and drive her to the dance in his Dad’s Audi.

Some douche dressed as SpiderMan carjacks him right outside the dance and steals his car. All Flash can do is stare in shock as the dude in the crappy SpiderMan costume takes off with his Dad’s car. It’s gonna get wrecked for sure. It’s like the guy doesn’t even know how to drive.

None of his classmates even care that he’s just been carjacked. Peter Parker’s just ditched Liz in the middle of the dance and taken off. Apparently in high school that’s bigger news than grand theft auto.

In the end, homecoming is kind of overshadowed by the Stark Industries plane going down in a ball of flame and Liz’s Dad turning out to be some kind of whacked out supervillain. Flash hardly notices any of it. He’s too busy trying to explain to his Dad what happened to his brand new car that Flash wasn’t really supposed to be driving.

 A few weeks later, after everything has gone back to normal and the biggest news in New York is the engagement of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, the tech fair rolls around.

Stark Industries is the major sponsor of the tech fair. Tony Stark is one of the judges. He’s actually going to be there, studying all the inventions created by pairs of students across New York. This is Flash’s big chance to get Mr Stark’s attention. He straightens his tie and gives the robot one last tinker. He repositions the poster board. He waits, heart pounding. Tony Stark is coming down their row. He’s five teams away, asking a team from another school about their water-purifying micro-bots.

Flash elbows Peter in the ribs. It hurts. He’s probably going to have a bruise on his elbow. Peter is bouncing on the balls of his feet. He’s every bit as excited to meet Mr Stark as Flash is. “Does Tony Stark know about your Iron Man action figure?” Flash jibes.

“Yes,” says Peter, grinning excitedly. “This is so cool!”

Flash stares at him, taken aback. He adjusts the robot again.

Tony Stark finally makes it to their exhibit. Flash opens his mouth to introduce himself, to start the speech he spent the whole night working on. He needs to impress Mr Stark. His throat is dry and his palms are wet. There’s something wrong with his heartbeat – it’s lost its rhythm. He wipes his shaking hand on his slacks and holds it out to shake Mr Stark’s hand. He tries to start his speech, but he’s forgotten how to talk and all that comes out is a strange, low whine.

Mr Stark doesn’t even look at him. He clasps Peter on the shoulder. “Thought any more about the job offer, Peter?”

Peter Parker hugs him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Tony Stark doesn’t exactly hug Peter back, but he doesn’t call security either. He just stands there for a second, letting Peter hug him, then pats him on the back, saying, “Yeah, yeah, ok kid.”

Peter lets him go. “Sorry, Mr Stark.”

To Flash’s annoyance, Mr Stark looks like he’s hiding a laugh. Instead of looking horrified at the sudden scary-fanboy behaviour of a high school student he barely knows, he almost looks fond of Peter. “How about you run me through your project?” he suggests.

Flash has recovered from the shock enough to sieze his opportunity, starting his well-rehearsed speech about the robot, but Mr Stark doesn’t really seem like he’s listening. He’s examining the robot and not even looking at Flash.

Flash forgets his speech and childishly bursts out with: “It’s my robot! It was my idea. Peter hardly did any of the work!”

Tony Stark looks at him over the top of his dark glasses. “I can tell,” he says.

Flash shrinks a little. There’s no expression in the voice, but those three little words manage to give the very clear impression that Peter would have done a better job.

“Peter uses stuff from dumpsters,” Flash adds desperately. At least he can afford proper equipment. Mr Stark doesn’t dignify that with an answer.

Tony Stark returns his attention to Peter. “Did you get my text?” He asks.

Peter looks suddenly nervous. Flash is hit by an absurd hope that the surprisingly serious expression on Mr Stark’s face means that Penis Parker is finally going to get told off. In public. By Iron Man. It’s about time. No one ever punishes Perfect Peter. Not when he’s skipping homework. Not when he’s bailing on decathlon. Not when he’s appropriating school chemistry equipment for his own personal (probably illegal) use. Not even when he’s telling obvious lies for attention. If Tony Stark tells Peter Parker off now, Flash will forgive the indifference and the slight on his intelligence. He’ll even forgive the lack of interest in his awesome robot.

But then Peter nods and says with wide puppy eyes, “I was going to reply, I swear… I just got busy…”

“Daily updates, Peter,” Mr Stark says sternly.

“But – “ Peter starts.

Mr Stark interrupts him. “Daily.”

Flash has very nearly returned Mr Stark to the pedestal he occupied before Flash met him. But then, much to Flash’s disappointment, he seems he seems satisfied with Peter’s promise to keep him posted. He moves on without a second glance at Flash. As he walks away, he looks back over his shoulder and says casually, “Oh, and Peter – let happy know who you’re bringing to the wedding. He’s doing the planning.”

“What, your wedding?” Peter asks stupidly.

“No, that guy’s,” Tony Stark replies sarcastically, pointing to a random teacher. “Yes, mine.”

Peter’s face lights up. “Really?”

“Really.”

Flash would like nothing more than to wipe that wide smile of pure delight off Penis Parker’s face.

Penis is bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet, then suddenly stops, wide-eyed. “Is Bruce Banner going to be there? Ooh, is _Thor_ going to be there?” Then like he can’t stop himself, he hugs Mr Stark again. Mr Stark puts up with it.

When Peter finally lets him go, Mr Stark just says, “RSVP by the end of the month.” He starts walking away again. “Good to see you, Peter.” And then in one final insult to Flash, he nods at Ned, who has been staring in speechless awe from the booth next door the whole time. “Ned.”

“Omigod Omigod,” Ned gabbles incoherently as Tony Stark begins questioning Michelle and Abraham about their artificial photosynthesis system. “Iron Man knows my name! This is the best thing that’s ever happened!” He clasps Peter’s arm tightly in excitement.

“Hey Ned,” says Penis, “Want to go to Mr Stark’s wedding?”

Flash is gripped by an almost overpowering urge to throw the robot at his head.

“Hell yes!” exclaims Ned. “High five! Guy in the chair!”

Penis high fives him. “Guy in the chair!” he echoes.

And now they’re doing their secret handshake, chanting “Guy in the chair, guy in the chair!”

“How old are you guys?” Flash asks sourly. No one over the age of ten has a secret handshake. They ignore him. Those two must be the least cool people he’s ever met. They’re not even trying to act like they aren’t excited.

In the next booth, Tony Stark looks like he’s hiding a smile. All around them, all eyes are on Peter and Ned, who are now discussing whether or not Thor will bring his hammer to the wedding. The only person Flash can see who doesn’t look astonished at what’s just happened is Michelle. Her face looks the same as it always does. Even a billionaire technological genius and superhero doesn’t faze Michelle.

Flash glares at Peter. Okay, so maybe the Stark Internship was real. And maybe it wasn’t just fetching coffee and doing filing. Stark had certainly made it sound like Penis was working on something important. Something Tony Stark was personally involved in, even. And it had sounded like Stark Industries had actually offered Parker a job. A real one. And Peter was going to Tony Stark’s wedding to Pepper Potts. That didn’t mean Peter deserved it. There was something shady going on here.

Flash consoles himself with the thought Peter and Ned will definitely be the least cool people at the wedding. They’ll embarrass themselves in front of all their heroes for sure. Ned will wear a stupid hat and Peter – Flash wracks his brain for a reason going to Tony Stark’s wedding will suck for Peter – Peter will probably blurt out to Thor that he likes dressing up as him or something. Or bring his Hulk action figure and show it to Bruce Banner.

He kicks the wall savagely. Parker and Ned are still jumping up and down. Ned’s out of breath. Peter isn’t.

They don’t even win the tech fair. The girls from Brooklyn with the water-purifying micro-bots do. Flash tells everyone they couldn’t have won because Tony Stark would have been accused of favouring his intern. Even he doesn’t quite believe it. The “I can tell” is festering.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may have got a little unrealistic, but it's fanfiction about a fifteen year old super hero, so it's allowed to be.
> 
> Also a little worried my characterisation is declining as a result of having only seen the movie twice but having read about 300 fanfics.
> 
> Thanks everyone for your lovely comments. If anyone's got any recommendations for good GEN fics for me to read, suggestions in the comments would be greatly appreciated.

The only thing that prevents Peter Parker becoming the school hero following his very public invitation to Tony Stark’s wedding is the fact that’s he’s still not entirely forgiven for ditching Liz at Homecoming. The younger kids looks at him with something like awe as they pass him in the hallways. Sometimes they run up to him and ask him what Iron Man is like in real life. The eyes of the older students linger on him now, instead of sliding over him like they did before, or glaring at him like they did right after the dance. People whisper about him in the hallways. They’re starting to wonder if he had a good reason to leave Liz standing alone in the middle of the dancefloor. Like maybe he knew something about the Stark Industries plane and got called in to work… and what could an intern be working on that was so important he got called in an emergency? There’s even a crazy theory going round that Peter had been sent to spy on Liz’s Dad for Stark.

Flash takes it upon himself to remind people of Peter’s place in the social hierarchy. He pushes the whispers back to what they should be – namely, that Liz had been way out of Parker’s league and had only gone out with him because she felt sorry for him. His crush on her had been pathetically obvious, and Liz had taken pity on him because she was too nice for her own good. Clearly, by the time they’d reached the dance he’d figured that out and lost his nerve. Because that was obviously what had happened. Occam’s razor – the simplest explanation is usually correct. Flash finds it astounding that in a school of science, so many people have forgotten that principle and are choosing the ‘teenage boy is secretly a spy for a billionaire tech genius’ explanation over the one that goes ‘teenage boy freaked out on a date because he’s a giant loser’. Peter Parker had simply arrived to pick up Liz for the dance, remembered he was a massive nerd who couldn’t drive, and freaked out and bolted as soon as her Dad had dropped them at the dance. Either that, or Liz’s Dad had got a bit carried away with the protective father routine. He had turned out to be a supervillain, after all.

Flash is occasionally hit by nagging doubts, a little voice in his head that says “but maybe…” He ignores it, shoving down the memory that Tony Stark had known Peter hadn’t contributed much to their robot just by looking at it. And that Peter is working on something that involves daily updates that Tony Stark himself actually hears. And Peter’s secret fitness regime. There is no way, _no way_ Penis Parker is important enough to be called in to Stark Industries because a crazy man in a bird suit is attacking a plane full of tech. NO WAY. Peter Parker is just a kid who can’t drive and still plays with Lego.

For almost the first time in his life, Flash wishes he didn’t go to such a prestigious academic-focused school. In an ordinary school, no-one would care about the Stark Internship. Then he remembers that at an ordinary school no-one would be impressed by the academic decathlon team or the robotics club or the science fair, and takes it back.

Aside from that, Flash is having quite a good week. He’s top of the class in the Spanish mid-term and takes great pleasure in rubbing it in Peter’s face. At decathlon practice, he’s officially made first string. They have a ‘friendly’ meet with a school in Brooklyn in the weekend and preparation is intense. He goes up against Peter in a mock buzzer round and not only beats Penis to the buzzer every time, he gets every answer right. Peter doesn’t really seem like he’s concentrating, but Flash doesn’t let that take away from his achievement.

As they’re leaving practice, he hears Peter hissing to Ned, “I’m _so_ grounded. May said I have to stay out of trouble and keep my grades up or she’s not gonna let me do it anymore!”

Flash smirks. Finally, someone’s done with Peter getting special treatment because of his stupid internship. If Flash had a Stark Internship he could do it and still keep up his grades and all his other commitments.

 “That sucks, man,” Ned commiserates, “Can’t you get Mr Stark to talk to her or something?”

Peter shakes his head vigorously. “I tried that already. She punched him.”

“Aunt May punched Mr Stark?” Ned repeats shrilly.

Flash freezes mid-step and stares at them.

Peter sees him looking and frantically shushes his bestest buddy, complete with flapping hand movements and shifty glances round the room. Then he says with the most obviously fake laugh Flash has ever heard, “That was a joke, Ned. Why would May punch Mr Stark?”

Ned looks confused. “Because – “ he starts, but cuts himself off suddenly, rubbing his ribs where his friend has elbowed him. He lets out a chuckle almost as artificial as Peter’s and says, “That’s hilarious. Of course May wouldn’t punch Mr Stark! You really got me there, Peter.”

Peter’s looking anxiously at Flash. Flash glares at him. “Telling some more lies, Penis?”

“I was just joking with Ned,” Peter says nervously. He’s a terrible liar. He tells lots of them, but none of them are believable.

Although, now that Flash thinks about it, he’d been certain Peter had been lying about the internship and that had turned out to be true. Maybe Peter’s only pretending to be a bad liar. “Whatever, Penis. Nobody cares,” he says, “Why don’t you go hang out with your close personal friend SpiderMan?”

“I’m grounded,” says Peter quietly, starting to leave, “See you tomorrow night, Flash.”

Flash can’t shake the feeling he’s being laughed at.

 

The school in Brooklyn where the academic decathlon meet is being held could do with some TLC. It’s institutional and grimy, and frankly, feels a little like it’s about to collapse around them. Flash looks across the stage at the other team and groans silently to himself. The two girls who won the tech fair are on the other team. He looks at his own team. They are quietly confident, because Peter, for once, has turned up and made it all the way to the opening bell without mysteriously disappearing or having to take an important phone call or pretending to come down with violent food poisoning and then vanishing.

It’s all going surprisingly well until they’re halfway through the math section and all the lights go out. It’s completely black. Even the emergency exit sign over the door has gone out. Everyone sits in shocked silence for a few seconds. No one can even use their phone as a flashlight, because they’re all in a box by the door.

“I’ll just check the fuse boxes,” the Brooklyn coach says, as people start to whisper excitedly in the dark. Flash can hear her feeling her way to the door of the auditorium and rattling it.

Mr Harrington goes over to help. There’s a lot of shuffling and shaking. One of them finds the box of phones and uses one to cast a dull glow over the door.

“It’s locked,” the Brooklyn coach says, a slight tremble in her voice. “Well, we’ll just have to go out the other way. Nothing to worry about people, we’ll have this sorted out in a few minutes.”

Then they smell the smoke.

Is it hot in here?

“Why does this always happen to me?” moans Mr Harrington.

Flash looks up. There’s a spark flickering on the ceiling, threatening to catch alight.

“Everyone stay calm, there are several other exits,” The Brooklyn coach instructs them.

The spark flashes across the ceiling, a huge, unnatural ball of flame unlike any fire safety video Flash has ever seen. Black smoke chokes up the room and burns in his throat, makes him gag and cough and he can’t breathe even after he pours his water bottle over his shirt and pulls it up like a mask. People are not staying calm.

Flash stumbles towards the nearest window. He knocks against someone and feels them fall over, but it barely registers through the terror. He can feel himself burning from the inside out. He bashes on the hot glass of the window with his bare fists. His skin blisters and breaks, but the window won’t budge. The unnatural fireball jets out eight perfectly symmetrical lines of flame that extend across the ceiling and down the walls like the legs of a giant octopus. The last thing Flash feels is the pure, unbearable heat, and then nothing.

He wakes to the faint sound of sirens approaching fast. He opens blurry, sore eyes to see a terrified Mr Harrington kneeling over him, saying his name.

“Oh, thank god,” Mr Harrington says, “You’re not dead.”

Flash blinks. There are flames engulfing the whole building now. He has no idea how he got here, but the rest of the team are standing around him, scared and lightly singed, but unhurt.

“SpiderMan saved us,” Abraham tells him, “It was so awesome.”

Flash squints at the school. Sure enough, a small red and blue figure is swinging down from the room they’d been trapped in, one of the water-bot girls slung over one shoulder. Everyone whoops and claps loudly. Spiderman puts her down and she runs towards her friends. SpiderMan shoots out a web and pulls himself back up to the window.

The fire engines scream to a stop in front of the school, followed by Police cars and Ambulances.

The fire chief comes and asks for information. He wants to know if there’s anybody left inside. Everyone stops celebrating and looks around. That’s when someone says, “Where’s Peter?”

Flash looks around. Everyone’s out but Peter. He feels sick. This isn’t like the Washington Monument. Peter was in that room with them. What if he’s still there? He might not like the guy, but he doesn’t want him to die.

Everyone’s speaking at once, a whole mess of voices, just a babble of unintelligible words and Peter’s name. Everyone looks sick and MJ might be crying and Mr Harrington definitely is. There’s a fifteen year old boy missing and he might still be in the building, but he’s probably still alive because he’s Peter Parker and he’s clever and resourceful and _good._

Mr Harrington is clutching at straws, but they let him, because Peter can’t be dead.

Ned is surprisingly calm. “Peter’s fine,” he tells them, “I saw him get out.”

But they can’t see him anywhere and what if Ned’s wrong?

The medics come over and start checking people over, treating for shock and minor burns and mild smoke inhalation. They want to take Flash to the hospital, but he wants to stay and make sure they find Peter.

The Fire Officers are all business, setting about dousing the flames. The police are asking about the locked doors and how the fire started.

“There he is!” Ned shouts. Everyone stops and turns to look. The last thing Flash sees before they shut the ambulance doors is Peter sprinting towards the group, pink and unburned, hair perfectly tousled, abs rippling, wearing only his boxers.

 

God, Flash hates that guy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot has been made of Tom Holland's acting in the building collapse, but the scene I was most impressed with was Peter telling Aunt May he lost the Stark Internship. That was superb.

They keep Flash in the hospital overnight for observation. He’s not seriously injured. Turns out he’d fainted from fear, which he’s definitely not going to tell anyone. His father postpones a meeting to visit him in his hospital room and talks about suing the school and someone targeting Flash to get to him, because this is the second time the decathlon team has been in life and death situations, not to mention the carjacking. His Mom calls from her conference in Brazil and yells at his Dad for making everything about himself. No one from school comes.

He’s back at school on Monday. The doctor had suggested a few days off, but Flash can’t risk it. It only takes a few days to get behind.

Everyone’s talking about SpiderMan saving them again. Someone’s put up a YouTube video of the SpiderMan swinging out the window carrying an unconscious Flash.

“Did SpiderMan like your Star Wars boxers, Penis?” He asks loudly, to distract people.

It backfires spectacularly. Someone had taken a picture and people are nearly as excited about it as they are about SpiderMan. Penis is pretending to be embarrassed and no-one’s nearly concerned enough about _why_ Peter Parker was running around a school in Brooklyn wearing only his boxers.

“Star Wars? Really? How lame is that?” Flash continues (it’s okay, no-one knows about the light saber in his closet).

Peter Parker’s on his phone, getting yelled at by someone, saying, “Happy – wait, no, I didn’t lose it – I know where it is, I swear – Happy! Listen to me! They had a picture. I think they were after…” he stops while the person on the phone yells some more, then says, “My clothes burnt up! What was I meant to do? Everyone was worried! Happy, wait, this is really important…”

Flash can’t hear the rest of it, because three of the cheerleaders are ogling the picture of Peter on one of their phones, passing it around and giggling. “I guess we know what Liz saw in him now,” one of them says.

Flash wants to punch Perfect Peter in his stupid face.

It’s like Parker’s everywhere he looks. Flash is starting to think he’s following him. He can feel Peter’s eyes on him. Peter’s marking him when they play soccer in gym class. Peter’s twisting in his seat to look at him in Physics. Peter asks him to pair up for conversation practice in Spanish class. Ned looks bewildered and slightly hurt, because whoever heard of Penis pairing up with anyone but his bestie? Peter whispers something to his friend. Flash catches the words _Flash_ and _picture._ Ned stares at Flash and pairs up with Betty.

Flash can only conclude that Peter hasn’t been studying, or just sucks at conversational Spanish, because all the questions he asks are about Flash’s Dad.

“What does your Father do?” “Does your Father make a lot of money?” “Have you met your Father’s colleagues?” “Is your Father an important man?” “Does your father have any enemies?”

“Does your Aunt like younger men?” Flash asks in annoyance. Peter gives him what is probably the closest Peter’s face can get to a dirty look. He looks like a five year old.

Peter lingers in the hallway when Flash is collecting books from his locker. He’s making a phone call in the bathroom when Flash goes in there. Flash hears him whining at that Happy guy again and saying something about Tony Stark.

“Stop following me, Loser!” Flash snarls, shoving Peter into the wall.

“I’m not following you, why would I being following you? That would be a super weird and suspicious thing to do!” Peter blurts out and scurries away.

Flash comes away with the feeling that Peter had let him shove him into the wall.

Later in the day, Ned lurks in the computer lab while Flash works on his assignment. He’s even less subtle about it than Peter and keeps texting someone.

After school, Peter Parker turns up at Robotics club for the first time in forever. He’s welcomed back with open arms. It’s like academic decathlon all over again. His robot is made from a remote control helicopter and an old garbage disposal. It shoots nets and grinds things up and it looks like crap. Mr Harrington’s on stress leave, so there’s no one in charge and the whole meeting is just people talking about SpiderMan and asking Penis about Tony Stark. Flash snorts. “If Penis was that important to Tony Stark he’d give him a better bot.”

Peter doesn’t reply because his phone rings. He goes across the room to answer it, but Flash can still hear someone yelling at him about losing something. It sounds a lot like Tony Stark. “How can it be gone?” Peter asks piteously, “I had to leave it there but I was going back to get it –“ The voice cuts him off to do some more yelling. Flash catches the words _secret_ and _turned off_ and _baby monitor_ and _don’t do anything, I’ll fix this._

By the time Peter hangs up the phone he’s got tears in his eyes. He looks so crushed that even Flash doesn’t make a smart remark when he sits back down and starts to mess with his robot. Nobody says anything but everyone knows Peter Parker’s messed something up. Bad.

Flash wants badly to rub it in Parker’s face that for once in his life he’s failed, he’s got the answer wrong, he’s not the smartest person in the room, he’s not the favourite. He’s _so_ getting fired from the stupid Stark Internship that everyone makes such a big deal about. Everyone’s tinkering with their robots in silence. No one’s looking at Peter. Robotics nerds, it has to be said, are not the most socially astute of groups. Nobody knows how to react when someone’s upset. Even so, Flash can tell they’ll all take Peter’s side if he tells him it was about time. So he stays silent too.

Peter doesn’t even stop and talk to Ned when they meet up with him on the way out of the Robotics lab. Just practically runs out of the school. Probably going off to cry somewhere because his prissy little feelings are hurt.

“I’ll keep you updated!” Ned shouts after him. “Hey, wait up Flash!”

Flash ignores him and starts walking to his car. Well, his Dad’s car, really. Ned is waddling after him irrepressibly. “Hey, Flash can you come to my house and help me with my Spanish homework? I’m really behind and Peter’s busy.”

“Get lost, Porn Boy,” Flash tells him, getting into his new Audi and slamming the door in Ned’s face. He speeds off, shaking his head. How the hell could that Lego-playing loser think he’d be seen dead at his house?

In the rearviewmirror, he sees Ned texting someone.

He stops and has dinner at a little Italian place on his way home. They know his name there and everything is fresh. It’s not the fanciest or most expensive place he frequents, but the owner is motherly and no one’s going to see him. He has to park his car a way away because the place doesn’t even have valet parking, but he’s having a bad week and really wants pasta, so he deals with it. As he walks to the restaurant, he can still feel the eyes on his back.

He keeps thinking about balls of fire and locked doors and falling elevators, so he eats more than his mother would approve of and assures Mrs Rossi he’s recovering from his ordeal very well. She gives him free gelato.

He’s walking back to the car when Peter Parker comes out of the coffee shop across the road. This can’t be a coincidence. “What did I say about following me, weirdo?” He shouts across the road.

Peter jogs across and catches up with him just as he reaches the alley where his car is parked. “I’m not, I swear! I just, I needed some cake,” he says pathetically, and he looks like he’s going to cry again so much that Flash almost believes he genuinely came to this street just for comfort food.

“Tell someone who cares, Parker,” he says, “Stay the hell away from me.”

He turns to open his car door and Peter grabs his wrist to stop him and starts saying something, and everything stops. Flash can’t move. He’s frozen like a statue with one hand on his car door and his other arm held in Peter Parker’s vice-like grip. He can still breathe and blink and swallow, but he can’t speak or move his arms or lift his feet, or even turn his head. He feels like his muscles have been replaced with steel.

“You got the other one too, you moron!” a scratchy voice growls, “Now what are we gonna do?”

Flash can feel someone trying to pull Peter’s hand off his arm. It won’t budge. “How was I supposed to know that would happen? They won’t come apart,” a second voice, slower and deeper, says. “Did you bring the saw?”

Flash really, really hopes he heard wrong.

The scratchy voice sounds annoyed. “The boss said bring the Freeze Ray and the ropes. He didn’t say anything about saws.”

“We can’t keep standing here. Someone will see us,” the slow voice says. “The SpiderMan might come.”

“We’ve a got freeze ray and his suit,” Scratchy-Voice says. “We can take the chirpy little bastard.”

“I dunno, man. He messed everything up for us at the school pretty bad. Open the doors.”

Flash wants to call for help. He wants to use the sweet mini-taser in the glove compartment of his car. He wants to kick them in the balls. Most of all, he wants to wrench Peter Parker’s hand off his forearm. Seriously, it’s starting to really hurt. Even before he’d been Freeze-Rayed Peter’s grip had been crazy hard, but now he’s starting to worry they’re not going to need the saw because his hand’s going to fall off.

The kidnappers are talking about ransoms and Flash’s dad, and what they’re going to do with the one they weren’t meant to grab as they awkwardly manoeuver the two boys into the back of the van.

It’s dark and uncomfortable on the metal floor of the van, especially when the vehicle starts moving. They slide around the floor as the van turns, bashing into the wheel-wells and the sides. Flash is lying on his side, his phone digging into his hip.

It’s okay, he tells himself. His dad will pay. And if he doesn’t, well, Peter’s here too. And Peter knows Iron Man.


	5. Chapter 5

Flash is in a white room. He and Peter are still frozen together like a weird statue, each of them handcuffed to a bar in the wall. The two men have left them in here until they unfreeze so they can make a ransom video to send to Flash’s father. Flash can hear someone pacing outside the door. His phone is heavy in his pocket. The bad guys hadn’t bothered to search them before leaving them here. But it doesn’t matter what Flash has in his pockets anyway. He can’t move his hand to reach for it.

He’s facing away from Peter, still in the position he’d been in when Peter had grabbed his arm. He can hear Peter whispering something, but he can’t move his mouth to reply. He strains his ears to make out what Peter’s saying.

It sounds like he’s whispering the same thing over and over. “Come on, SpiderMan. Come on SpiderMan…”

Flash wants to yell at him. SpiderMan’s not coming. How would SpiderMan know? It’s not like he was there. It’s not like SpiderMan follows him around. Okay, so SpiderMan has saved his life twice, both times in places where he isn’t usually seen, but those were just coincidences. Right?

“Come on SpiderMan!” Peter chants quietly. “Come on, SpiderMan!”

Flash feels the grip on his forearm loosen. The feeling slowly returns to his hand as Peter eases his hand away.

“Can you talk?” Peter asks.

Flash tries, but he can’t. He can’t even shake his head no.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get us out,” Parker has the audacity to assure him.

_How do you plan on doing that?_ Flash wants to say. _It took you like twenty minutes to take your hand off my arm. You’re not that far ahead of me._

“Is your hand okay? Sorry about that, I didn’t know that would happen. I mean, who has a freeze ray, anyway?”

Peter’s rambling at him. Flash really, really wishes he’d unfrozen first so he could tell Peter to shut up and let him think. He shuts Peter out and concentrates on trying to move his hand.

“I think I saw a way out of the evil lair on the way in,” Peter’s saying, “It was quite hard to see, because I couldn’t really move my head. We’ll have to wait until you’re unfrozen, though. You’ll be too awkward to carry like this…”

It seems Peter Parker’s response to stress is to lose his mind and become extremely overconfident. Okay, so Parker’s in decent shape, but there’s no way he can take out those two guys who brought them here, let alone all the other people in the building. Not to mention that the implication that Flash will be no help at all is kind of insulting.

Flash twitches his index finger. He wants nothing more than to yell at Peter to stop making stupid plans and call Iron Man, or at least the cops.

By the time the door creaks open again, Flash can move his head, his right hand and can speak again. Peter is pacing as much as the handcuffs will allow, but he’s still moving slowly. Flash can only assume he got less of the blast, which is why it’s wearing off quicker.

The two men who had kidnapped them come in, locking the door behind them.

“Eugene Thompson,” the one with the slow, deep voice says, “It’s time to send a message to your father.”

The other one doesn’t say a word, just reaches into Flash’s pocket and pulls out his phone.

It’s a bit of an anti-climax when Flash’s Dad doesn’t answer the video call. They leave a message. Flash has a gun to his head and tries really hard not to cry as he tells his Dad he’s scared. They want the plans his father’s working on. Flash has a horrible, sinking feeling in his gut. Dad won’t give them up. They’re more than his son’s life is worth.

They’re going to die here. Well, Flash is. The kidnappers seem to have forgotten about Peter.

“You’re not going to get away with this,” he blusters, because that’s what he does when he’s scared, “We know Iron Man. He’ll come for us and take you all out.”

“No he won’t,” Peter says breathlessly, “I hardly know him at all!”

Flash doesn’t know why Peter’s chosen this particular moment to deny knowing Tony Stark instead of following Flash’s lead in intimidating the kidnappers into letting them go. “He’ll be so angry if you hurt us he’ll bring all the Avengers here.” He turns his head to glare at Peter. Peter looks anxious, but not as terrified as he should. He’s still handcuffed to the wall, but seems to be able to move freely, unlike Flash.

“Iron Man, you say?” The scratchy-voiced man says ponderously.

“Peter’s his intern,” Flash says.

Suddenly, the two men are paying a lot more attention to Peter.

“Shut up, Flash,” Peter hisses urgently. He doesn’t seem to understand that Flash is saving them. “I hardly even know him,” he insists, for the first time in his life choosing not to tell everyone about his Stark Internship.

“He invited Peter to his wedding,” Flash says, so the kidnappers know that Iron Man will destroy them when he finds out about this, “He hugged him at the Tech Fair.” Instead of looking concerned, the kidnappers look strangely gleeful. Flash is struck by a sudden doubt that he’s done the right thing.

“That’s not true,” Peter denies, his voice even more high-pitched than usual. He’s very obviously lying. “I mostly talk to Happy. Mr Stark won’t come for me.”

“Maybe we should have a little chat with Mr Stark,” Scratchy Voice suggests.

“Giving the Boss Iron Man and the Thompson Plans on the same day?” his companion says, “Our lives will be made.”

“I’m only an intern,” Peter says, a sharp edge of fear in his voice. “Mr Stark doesn’t care about me.” He couldn’t make it any more obvious that he thinks Mr Stark will come for him if he tried. Flash is starting to think Peter might actually think Tony Stark cares enough about him to storm the underground lair of a group of scary men with guns and freeze rays and probably a whole lot of other, worse stuff.

The enormous guy with the slow voice trains his gun on Peter. The other man scrolls through Peter’s phone. Flash twitches his toe.

“Ah,” Scratchy Voice says, looking up from the phone, “How about we give T.S. a call.”

The room is silent except for the ringing of the phone. Flash twitches his toe again. He looks at Peter, who appears to be silently willing Tony Stark not to answer the phone. Flash doesn’t know why he’s so worried. Iron Man’s taken on way worse bad guys than this. Plus, he’s probably not even going to come.

“Happy was just about to call you, Peter,” Mr Stark says, his image appearing on the screen of Peter’s phone, “What are you doing out of New York? Your phone’s showing up in Jersey. We told you not to do anything – what’s going on?” Mr Stark finally looks up from whatever he’s been looking at and sees Peter handcuffed to the wall. Flash sees his face darken even on the tiny phone screen.

“I’m fine,” says Peter, like a moron, “I’ve got this under control.”

“It doesn’t look like it’s under control, kid,” Tony Stark says, “What did I tell you about the big leagues?”

“I was just trying to warn Flash they were after him,” Peter says indignantly. This is getting more surreal by the second. Flash has a faint hope that this might just be a nightmare. “How was I supposed to know they had a Freeze-Ray?”

“Sorry to interrupt this nice little catch-up,” Scratchy Voice says, angling the phone to make sure the gun aimed at Peter is in shot, “But if you’re not here in an hour little Peter gets it.”

“Don’t come, Mr Stark, it’s a trap,” Peter cries. The big guy with the gun backhands him across the face.

“Don’t do anything until I get there, Peter,” Mr Stark says.

Scratchy Voice turns off the video. “Now, I wonder why you’re so important to Tony Stark,” he says, looking suspiciously at Peter. Peter makes himself look small, the same way he does in gym class, when he remembers he’s meant to be bad at it, or in the cafeteria when Flash is conducting the ‘Penis Parker’ chant.   

Flash feels a little guilty when he sees the two men standing menacingly over Peter, but he can’t help but be glad the attention is off himself. What was with that video call, anyway? Peter hadn’t even seemed scared for himself, just for Iron Man flying into a trap. And the whole thing about warning Flash, and the fact that Mr Stark was tracking Peter’s phone… Flash is starting to think the Stark Internship might not be what it seems.

“Iron Man sure seems to like you,” Slow Voice taunts. “He’s not gonna make it past the gates.”

Then Peter Parker rips the iron bar out of the wall.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the amazing response on the last chapter, guys! I hope this meets your expectations.

Flash gives an embarrassing little shriek and jerks his foot so violently that he overbalances and topples to the floor, like a mannequin getting shoved over in a store. The rough concrete of the floor slams his against his hand, scraping the skin off. He barely feels it because every nerve in his body is pulsing with shock. He cranes his neck to see, but his range of vision is inhibited by the fact that most of his body is still frozen or just barely twitching. The iron bar falls to the floor beside him, still handcuffed to his wrist, one ring of Peter’s broken handcuffs rattling on it.

Peter’s climbing the goddamn walls. Literally. Flash can see him out of the corner of his eye, scuttling sideways halfway up the white wall. The kidnappers are freaking out. The guy with the gun is waving it around randomly. Peter’s moving too fast for him to aim. A blur of white shoots out of the sleeve of Peter’s woolly sweater and wraps around the gun, gumming it up so the guy’s hand and weapon are just one big glob of sticky webbing. Peter flips down from the wall. “You’re not very good at this kidnapping thing,” he taunts the bad guys, “Always search your hostages. That’s like, rule one.” He ducks out of Flash’s line of sight as Scratchy Voice throws a punch at his head. Flash can’t see what he does, but the next instant Scratchy Voice’s feet come out from under him, like a rope has been thrown around his legs and yanked. Flash tries to roll out of the way but he’s still mostly immobile. The guy lands on him, knocking the breath out of both of them.

“My bad,” comes Peter’s voice, between thuds and scuffling, “How’re you doing, Flash? Think you’ll be able to run soon?”

Flash does his best to glare at Parker as the scratchy voiced man is suddenly lifted off him by one ankle to dangle from the ceiling. He bends his right knee as much as he can. It’s an improvement, but he’s still not going to be walking anywhere any time soon.

“Jeez, this is taking ages to wear off you!” Peter exclaims, flipping sideways out of the way of another blow from the guy with the gun webbed to his hand. Flash can’t quite see what’s going on, but suddenly the guy flies into the opposite wall. A jet of white goop follows him and sticks him to the wall.

“Now,” says Peter, barely out of breath, “What have you done with my suit?”

Penis Parker is the SpiderMan. Of course he is. Of course Perfect Peter gets superpowers. God forbid he’d have to work for something. If Flash wants an A on an exam, he studies for days beforehand until he can answer every possible question on the topic without hesitation. If Peter wants an A on an exam, he turns up. If Flash wants a position on the academic decathlon team, he spends months going to practices and proving how smart he is, waiting to be given a chance. If Peter wants a spot on the team, he comes by the occasional practice, hardly pays attention, and bails on competition, but is always first pick. If Flash wants friends, he throws parties, pays for expensive trips, and spends hours lying awake coming up with ways to impress people. If Peter wants friends, well, he plays Lego with Ned and doesn’t even have to put in any effort for Ned to like him. If Flash wants to be strong and fit and fast, he has to work at it.  Peter gets superpowers.

All the same, it has to be admitted that Peter having superpowers is extremely useful right now.

“Are you ok, Flash?” Peter asks, peering down at him.

Flash nods, still lost for words. He thinks he should probably say something about Peter being SpiderMan, or maybe thank him or something, but his mind is still whirling and what comes out is: “What the hell, Penis? Why didn’t you do that _before_ we got kidnapped?”

Peter looks affronted. “I didn’t know they had a freeze ray! It’s not like I have X-Ray vision!” he says defensively, like it should be obvious that his superhuman abilities don’t include X-Ray vision. “Can you move? I could carry you, but you’re kind of an awkward shape and I think I’m gonna need both my hands.”

Flash wriggles on the floor. He can move a little more now, but it’s jerky and robotic and slow.

“OK,” Peter says, “I’ll shut you in here while I go get my suit and by the time I get back you should be able to walk.”

“What?” Flash says in alarm, “You can’t leave me here!”

“You’ll be fine,” Peter assures him, “The webbing won’t start breaking down for two hours. I’ll web the door shut so no-one else can get in.”

“Don’t you dare!” Flash exclaims, “You can’t leave me on my own with them! How do you know that goop will hold?” Now that he’s seeing it up close, the webbing looks a lot like the bandage fluid Peter had won the science fair with last year. There’s no way Flash is entrusting his life to Peter Parker’s Freshman science project. “I saw the video of the ferry breaking in half!”

Peter looks like he’s been kicked in the stomach for a second, but quickly recovers. “Trust me, the webbing will hold. I can lift a bus with it.” He turns back to the dangling bad guy. “Tell me where my suit is,” he demands.

“Well, that was intimidating,” Scratchy Voice says sarcastically. “I better tell the little boy where his toy is!”

“Just tell me! Do you know what I could do to you?” Peter says. He’s doing something with his voice. Flash is pretty sure he’s trying to sound menacing, but it just sounds like a little kid pretending to be a grown-up. If there’s one thing Peter’s not, it’s intimidating.

Scratchy Voice laughs at him. “Little Peter wants his pretty red jumpsuit! You’re not going to do anything to us, everyone knows the SpiderMan’s afraid to hurt people.”

Peter appears to be at a loss for what to do next. Everyone in the room knows his bluff has been called. Even Flash. Peter’s obviously not going to beat the information out of them. He’s Peter Parker, and Peter Parker’s most annoying quality, even above the effortless intelligence or the absurd enthusiasm for incredibly uncool things, is that he’s nice. Flash has literally never heard him say anything mean to anyone. Not even to Flash. Even when he ran out on Liz at the dance, he was apologetic, and now it turns out he had a good reason for ditching her.

Flash struggles up onto his elbows. “Maybe not,” he says, “But your boss will. Especially when he finds out you’re the reason Iron Man’s on his way.”

“We’ve got it under guard, boy,” the slow-voiced man webbed to the wall says. “You’ll never get to it. There’s five guys between here and the lab. How much of that goo do you have left?”

“It’s not goo, it’s web fluid,” Peter protests, “Thanks for the reminder.” He rolls back his fuzzy sleeve and the plaid shirt under it, revealing strange contraptions strapped around his wrists. They look like he made them himself, out of stuff he found in the garbage, which he probably did. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out two tiny cartridges and reloading his wrist bands.

“I told you we should have searched them,” the scratchy-voiced guy growls at his colleague.

“So my suit’s in the lab?” Peter confirms, “I’ll be back soon, Flash. We’ll be out of here before Mr Stark arrives.”

“Don’t leave me here!” Flash cries to Peter’s back, but Peter’s already flipping out the door in an unnecessarily flashy manner. The door shuts behind Peter and a series of wet-sounding splats tells Flash the door is webbed shut and he’s locked alone in a room with two kidnappers who did other, even worse stuff. Flash looks at the web holding the guy to the ceiling suspiciously. He might trust it if it came from the SpiderMan suit, which presumably Tony Stark had made, but Flash has a nasty feeling he’s just discovered what Peter’s been surreptitiously making in the drawer under his bench in the Chem lab at school. He needs to find a weapon before it breaks and they kill him.

There’s a lot of thudding and shouting outside the door. He can hear Peter’s childish voice quipping at them and surely this is not the time for that.  A loud rat-a-tat that Flash recognizes from TV as a machine gun breaks through the rest of the noise. Flash freezes. This time it’s got nothing to do with a ray. Then Peter’s voice says, “Missed me!” Flash lets out his breath.

Movement is coming more quickly now. He’s still moving slower than usual, but he’s unbent from the uncomfortable position he’d been frozen in. He sits up, stretching his limbs.

There’s some more crashing and gunfire outside, then a silence and Peter’s voice, muffled through the door: “You shouldn’t play with guns, it’s dangerous.”

Flash wants to yell at him to stop trying to be funny and get him the hell out of here. He gets to his feet and looks around for his phone. His heart leaps as he sees it lying on the floor in the corner. Jerkily, he staggers toward it and picks it up. To his dismay, deep cracks have appeared in the screen, where it’s been crushed hard underfoot during the scuffle. They look like spider webs. Nothing happens when he runs his finger down the screen.

He looks around him for Peter’s phone, or one belonging to one of the bad guys. He finally finds Peter’s webbed to the wall, high out of reach. A tiny green light is blinking on it, but there’s no way for Flash to get to it. There’s no sign of one belonging to the guy on the wall; it must be webbed in with him.

“Where’s your phone?” He asks the upside-down guy.

The upside-down guy laughs. “Don’t tell me you’re secretly a hero, too.”

Flash isn’t a hero. If it was a proper superhero out there, like if Iron Man had actually arrived, or if Captain America was out there, he’d be perfectly happy to sit in this room and trust that the webs would hold and let the hero take care of what was going on out there. But it’s not a proper hero, it’s Peter Parker, who doesn’t even know how to drive a car, let alone use a weapon. He just wants to call the police.

The noise outside the room is getting quieter, like the fighting’s getting further away. He can’t hear Peter’s voice anymore.

He tries to search the upside-down guy’s pockets, but even swinging upside-down from one ankle, all the blood in his head, the guy packs enough of a punch to send Flash stumbling backwards, clutching his stomach.

He sits against the wall, clutching his stomach, and waits like a useless damsel-in-distress to be saved by a kid who used to be in the marching band.

A series of loud blasts rip through the air. The last one’s so intense Flash feels the floor shake under him.

Outside the door, there’s the sound of running footsteps and gunfire. Someone shouts, “Oh, SHIT. Iron Man!”

 


	7. Chapter 7

It’s all over pretty quickly once Iron Man arrives. Flash sits against the wall in the white room, one eye on the web holding the dangling man, one eye on the door, listening to the commotion outside. The crashing and shouting seem to be getting closer. A burst of gunfire sounds so near that he shrinks against the wall and looks around for something to hide behind. There’s nothing in the room to protect him. He settles for picking up the iron bar and gripping it tightly, preparing to swing it like a baseball bat at any intruder. It won’t save him from a hail of bullets, but it makes him feel better. Cold sweat drips down his back. The iron bar is dragging his arms towards the floor. His muscles tremble, but he holds his stance. There’s someone outside his door.

“Freeze!” Peter’s childish voice carries through the noise.

Suddenly, everything goes quiet.

It’s kind of freaky. There’s no way everyone would stop just because Peter told them to.

“That was awesome!” Peter exclaims, “Woah!”

“Yeah, well you can stop waving that thing around now, Spiderkid,” the unmistakable voice of Tony Stark says, from right outside the door.

“This is all your fault,” the dangling guy growls at his partner, “Now the little bastard’s got our ray. I told you to wait until he was out of the way!”

“No you didn’t!” returns the guy webbed to the wall, “It was you who was in such a hurry to get the Thompson plans. If we’d just waited…”

The argument is cut short by the door being wrenched open.

“Time to go, kid,” says Iron Man (Iron Man! In his Iron Man suit!), gesturing for Flash to move.

Flash drops the iron bar. His legs are shaking. He’s not sure he can walk.

SpiderMan steps out from behind the metal-suited superhero. He’s wearing the full red-and-blue suit, complete with mask, eyeholes adjusting as he looks at Flash, and holding the Freeze-Ray. Now that he knows, Flash can’t believe he didn’t figure out it was Peter on his own. It’s so obviously Peter under there. He holds himself like Peter. He’s got all the same mannerisms. And the voice! He’s not even attempting to disguise it. The only explanation he can think of is that he just didn’t want it to be Peter. He would have guessed anyone above Peter Parker, because it’s just so unfair that Parker’s got superpowers on top of everything else. Plus, superheroes don’t play with Lego.

“Can you walk, Flash?” SpiderMan asks, “Do you need me to carry you?” The eyes in his mask widen slightly. Flash can practically see the earnest expression on his face.

“What about these guys?” Flash asks, willing his legs to stop trembling. There is no way he’s letting Penis Parker carry him out of here.

“S.H.I.E.L.D’s taking care of it,” says Iron Man, “Coming, kid?”

Flash takes a couple of deep breaths and starts to walk, hoping he doesn’t look as shaky as he feels. Iron Man already thinks he’s bad at robotics, he can’t let him think he’s a coward as well.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you?” Peter asks. Flash glares at him.

They walk out of the lair, weaving between bullet-riddled wreckage and men frozen as statues. Flash has Iron Man on one side and Spider Man on the other, and he knows he should be relieved and grateful, but mostly he just feels insignificant. He’d been kidnapped, and he hadn’t been able to save himself. If Peter hadn’t been there, the bad guys would just have killed him. His Dad wouldn’t have given them what they wanted. He hadn’t even answered his phone. But Tony Stark had answered Peter’s call and come for him. Flash is 100% certain that if it had just been him in that room, Iron Man wouldn’t have bothered.

They exit the building through a set of doors that have been blown apart, into a huge parking lot. The sun has just barely risen, casting the cool, clear light of early morning across the tarmac. A chain-link, razor topped fence encircles the compound, a pair of busted gates at the entrance. It’s bare and empty, but for one black SUV parked in the centre, and a man getting out of it.

“Dad?” Flash says in wonder.

Tony Stark presses a button and steps out of his suit. “Mr Thompson,” he says, approaching Flash’s father, “here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re going to take that file back to your office. You’re going to put it back in the safe behind the Monet, and we’re going to pretend you weren’t about to commit treason.”

“B-but…” stammers Flash’s dad. It’s the most discomposed Flash has ever seen him. “I got a message…”

“It’s taken care of,” Tony Stark tells him. “S.H.I.E.L.D’s on its way. If they catch you trying to hand those plans over, there’ll be worse things in store for you than your son getting Freeze-Rayed.”

Flash’s dad grips the file in his hand tightly. “Get in the car, Flash.”

Flash gets in the car.

That afternoon, once the file is securely locked in the safe behind the Monet, Flash and his Dad sit in the home cinema and watch _A New Hope_ together.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day at school, Peter pulls him into the toilets after homeroom.

“Listen, man, you can’t tell anyone about this,” Peter says, almost pleading.

Flash isn’t going to. He might not be first pick for the academic decathlon team, but he’s not stupid. He’s not about to ruin his own life. Parker gets enough special treatment as it is. If people find out he’s got superpowers people will fawn over him so much Flash feels sick just thinking about it. There’ll be no end to it. Not to mention the fact that he’s using them for good and all those times he’s flaked or been mysteriously absent, he was off selflessly endangering his own life to help others. And if Peter thinks Flash _wants_ people to know he’s been rescued three times by a weirdo who wears t-shirts with stupid puns on them and stands around in dumpsters, then he doesn’t know Flash at all. It would ruin everything Flash has spent years cultivating. His social standing would be destroyed.

Peter’s waiting for an answer, puppy eyes in full force.

Flash might not beat Peter’s chemistry grade, or win the science fair, or keep calm under pressure, but he knows an opportunity when he sees it.

“What if I don’t?” he says.

“Please, Flash,” Peter entreats him, “It’s really important no one knows.”

Flash smirks. “I know your secret, Parker,” he says. “Now you have to do what I say.”

The expression on Peter’s face is so distressed that Flash very nearly feels bad. But then he remembers that Peter has Ned and Aunt May and Tony Stark and the top Chemistry grade and freakin’ superpowers, and is going to Tony Stark’s wedding, and Flash thinks it’s a small price to pay for all that.

Besides, it’s not like Flash is really going to betray him.

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I had fun.


End file.
